


Spite, That Great Motivator

by LaughingStones



Series: God what even 'verse [8]
Category: Motorcity
Genre: Multi, Poly Burners, Polyamory, The Duke's POV, pov switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-09 22:28:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13491108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaughingStones/pseuds/LaughingStones
Summary: The Duke has learned somethingdistressingabout Chuck's relationship with Mike, and with utterly pure motives that have nothing to do with Chucky's fine little ass, has decided to kindly inform him of the issue. This does not go quite as expected, but the Duke is adaptable! He'll provoke drama out of the situation if anyone can.





	Spite, That Great Motivator

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was sparked by a suggestion in a comment from Momma! Thanks very much, I wouldn't otherwise have realized how much this needed to happen.

Half of Motorcity seems to have showed up for the street fair. The Duke is ambivalent about the event because not nearly enough of it involves people applauding his vocal genius, and also his Number Two got caught up talking to Foxy, of all people, doing that whole exchange of veiled threats that counts as flirting for them and leaving him _heartlessly_ on his own without a bodyguard. He wanders around after his performance anyway, in search of entertainment.

He spots it by a stall that's selling actual physical books, silly fragile things mostly valued for their rarity. That skinny blond Burner Chilton’s shacked up with is poking through the wares with deep concentration, and neither Chilton nor their other friends seem to be in the vicinity. This is the perfect time for a little chat the Duke’s been meaning to have with him.

Sliding up without him noticing is easy, as lost as he is in his head, and when the Duke’s arm drops over his shoulders, he jumps and squeaks all high and startled, just like he did when the Duke was getting him all worked up and slipped a hand up his shirt. He does sing out pretty sweet in bed, if given adequate motivation.

“Well well well!” the Duke says, and that's all it takes for the kid to go bright red, cringing into himself like if he tries hard enough he can disappear. “If it isn't Chucky-boy all on his lonesome! Bereft and forlorn without his _loving_ , _faithful_ guard dog at his side.”

“Don't call him that,” Chucky mumbles, trying to edge out from under the Duke’s arm.

The Duke just clasps him more firmly to his side. “Call him what? Your dog? Or _faithful?_ Mm, yes, you clearly thought he could be trained, but a junkyard mutt like that's only going to turn on you in the end.”

“Oh, like you can talk about turning on people!” Chucky says hotly, still trying to wiggle away. “You've got no right to talk about Mikey like that, he's nothing like you!”

“Mm, yes,” the Duke says, “because _I_ keep my _word_. If I promise someone my full attention, _I'm_ not the type to go straying. But then, that's what you get with a good pedigree.”

The kid is not receptive, seems to have comprehension issues. He gives the Duke a flat look through messy bangs.

“Did you just call yourself a--”

“What I'm _saying_ is,” the Duke cuts in smoothly, “your boytoy’s been stepping out on you. Staying late at the office. Getting a little on the side. _Cheating_ on you,” he sums up helpfully.

Chucky blinks at him, apparently incredulous. “Mike. You think _Mike_ is…” he starts, and can't seem to finish, the alarm maybe starting to get through to him.

“‘Fraid so, honey boy. Truth hurts, I know, but I saw him kissing Miss Kapulsky not two weeks back. Witnessed it with my very own eyes and said to myself, I _must_ tell Chucky! That bastard Chilton’s just going to break his heart, I have a _duty!_ ” The Duke spins away from Chuck to high-kick. “To break the news… gently!” He slides into a split on the last word, laying a pious hand over his heart.

Chucky has a complicated expression on. “Uh-huh. So you decided to come tell me this because we're _such_ good friends.”

“Aww, baby, don't be like that,” the Duke entreats, bouncing back to his feet and wrapping an arm around the kid again, ignoring his attempts to duck away. “Since we've known each other _carnally_ \--”

“Oh god, why,” Chuck mumbles, hiding his face in one hand.

“I _naturally_ took a personal interest. And out of the goodness of my heart figured I'd let you know your days of access to that booty are nearing their end. Time to consider _alternatives_ ,” he adds pointedly, wiggling his eyebrows.

The kid looks at him for a long moment, and the Duke is reluctantly impressed by his control. He ought to be flustered and upset by the bad news, but he's not showing it in the least. In fact--the Duke frowns as Chucky starts to smile.

“Alternatives, huh? Well, thanks for the heads up, but I've already taken care of that. See,” he leans in close and lowers his voice, “I'm cheating on _him_ , too. With Dutch _and_ Texas. So I've got my backups in place already, and I don't think I need any extras. Better luck next time.” He extracts himself from the Duke’s grip and strides around the stall and out of sight as the Duke stares after him, dumbfounded.

What the fuck.

*

Mike's just left the racing games behind and is looking for tasty fair food when a familiar, unwelcome voice calls out behind him.

“Ahoy, Mister _Chilton!_ ”

Mike stops and groans under his breath before turning around. “What?” he says in his least friendly tone.

“I must apprise you of certain _unfortunate_ information,” the Duke says, coming to a halt a short distance away and leaning on his cane. “With reference to the fidelity and trustworthiness of your little blond boytoy.”

Mike’s eyes narrow. He doesn't even care what this weirdo has to say, he's just annoyed by him calling Chuck names. “Don't call him that,” he growls. “And I trust him about three hundred times more than I trust you.”

“Mm, yes, tragic how easily the… _heart_ can be misled by a nice ass,” the Duke says, and spins his cane casually, almost decking a man passing by, who glares, realizes who it is, and hastily moves on.

Mike glares too. “His butt’s pretty nice, yeah, but it's not why I'm with him.”

“Really? Well, I suppose his dick was acceptable,” the Duke says. “It takes all types.”

“Did you have a point, or are you just enjoying insulting my best friend?”

“Oh, baby boy,” the Duke drawls, “I'm a skilled multitasker, as you should recall.”

It takes Mike a minute, and then his face warms and he glares harder.

“The _point_ ,” the Duke says, “is this: your boy is _lying_ to you, and you ought to let him have it before kicking him to the curb for a new and improved model--I'm sure you have one in mind.”

Mike crosses his arms and seriously wonders if he should just walk away, except the Duke gets even more obnoxious when he thinks he's being ignored. “I don't know what you're talking about, and I don't know why you think I'm going to take your advice. Why would I even believe you, about this or anything else?”

The Duke smiles broadly. “In this case, Mister Chilton, you should believe _him_. Just now, he told me in these exact words that he's _cheating_ on you with _two_ of your supposedly trusted companions, sneaking around behind your back. And really, anyone who thinks you're not _enough_ for them, well, I realize it's a bit of a blow to the ego, but the best thing you can do for yourself is kick ‘em out with prejudice, make them _pay_ for all the pain they've caused you.” His smile gets a nasty twist to it. 

It takes Mike a minute to figure out how Chuck could be cheating when they're not playing a game, and then he stares before rubbing his hands over his face. Agh.

“Chuck told you he's cheating on me,” he sighs. Dang it, Chuckles, why?

“He did,” the Duke confirms with relish.

“With two other Burners,” Mike goes on flatly.

“I recommend you throw ‘em all out and find yourself some better friends and associates,” the Duke says, nodding. The air of sympathy he's obviously trying to give off is ruined by the eager edge to his smile as he waits for Mike to start flipping out or something.

Mike kind of wants to laugh in his face, and kind of wants to yell at him for trying so hard to mess up other people's lives, and mostly just wants him to go away. He's debating whether it's worth the hassle of trying to set him straight when Texas comes barreling across the street.

“Hey, Tiny!” He hooks an arm around Mike’s shoulders and messes up Mike's hair with one rough hand while Mike tries to duck away, laughing. “Whatcha doin’ standin’ around, there's a fightin’ ring over there! You gotta come watch Texas kick butt!” Then he glances over at the Duke and pauses, scowling. “Oh. It's the loud-mouth jerk.”

“I a- _beg_ your pardon,” the Duke says.

“Yeah, okay, you can beg Texas,” Texas says. “You're not gonna be as good at it as Mike, but you can try I guess.” Still frowning distractedly at the Duke, he slides one hand down Mike's back and palms his butt to squeeze it.

Mike twitches, just biting back a gasp, and his face goes hot. “Tex! Come on, dude, we talked about this, remember?”

“Yeah, and if Skinny gets to kiss you in public, then Texas oughta get to grab you, that just makes sense,” Texas says stubbornly.

The Duke is staring from Mike, to Texas, to Texas’s hand on Mike’s butt, back up to Mike. Even with Texas’s hand doing things it _really shouldn't in public, they totally talked about this_ , the look on the Duke’s face is pretty hilarious, and Mike finds himself grinning, flushed face and all.

“Hwhat, the _fuck_ , are these shenanigans?” the Duke says. He pulls his red sunglasses down his nose and leans forward to frown at Texas. “Am I to believe that _you_ have the brains and audacity to be two-timing _both_ of them?”

Texas starts to puff up proudly, catches up with the last bit and scowls. “Hey, Texas don't two-time nobody! You don't say junk like that about Texas, take it back!”

The Duke stares pointedly at Texas’s hand on Mike’s butt, which at least is just resting there now, and says, “I had it from the lips of Chucky himself that he's had a roll or two in the sheets with you.” He glances at Mike, frowns when he just gets an eyeroll in response instead of the betrayed look he's obviously hoping for, and turns back to Texas. “So how exactly do you intend to wriggle out of that?”

“Texas doesn't wriggle,” Texas says, looking puzzled. “So? Me’n Chuck bang sometimes, what about it? He's like, okay in the sack. Not as good as _Texas_ , a’course, but pretty good.”

The Duke stares at him narrow-eyed, almost visibly thinking through this. On the one hand, it's still hilarious. On the other, Mike has better things to do today than talk with the Duke.

Then there's a cheerful call from down the street, “Hey, cowboy!”

Mike turns to see Julie and Chuck making their way through the crowd, hand in hand. Oh geez, that's so cute. It's so great that they both feel comfortable enough now to do little stuff like that in public.

“Oh, _hi_ , Duke!” Chuck says, way too cheerfully, and as they get close he stops, pulls Julie around, and stoops to kiss her. She wraps a hand in his hair and keeps him there a minute, which she normally wouldn't do, taken off guard, which means… they planned this.

Mike shakes his head, sighing.

They break apart and Julie comes bouncing over to kiss Mike too, and then Chuck leans in to kiss him, and it's really hard to be exasperated when he’s getting all these unexpected smooches. Mike is trying, because it's ridiculous to go to these lengths just to play a prank on someone, even a guy as deserving as the Duke, but the grin keeps breaking through his stern look.

Meanwhile the Duke is glaring from one to another of them, looking as flummoxed as Mike’s ever seen the guy. “I _see_ ,” he says finally, and straightens up to go into one of his dumb high-kicking, cartwheeling, flipping routines. It ends with him doing a lunge in Mike’s direction, his cane snapping out to come within an inch of Mike’s chest.

“I was not aware,” he says, “that _you_ , Mister Chilton, have a _harem_.”

“Wha--oh come on!” Mike says, huffing. “I do not!”

“He really does,” Julie says, hanging on his shoulder and smiling at the Duke. “Sometimes we lie around mostly naked and play with each other so he can watch,” she adds.

The Duke blinks and Mike sputters.

“Oh my god, _Jules!_ ”

“What, Mikey? It's true,” Chuck says, blinking big hazel eyes at him.

“It’s--well, okay, that _happened_ one time, yeah,” Mike admits in a low voice, cheeks burning, “but come on guys, you're makin’ it sound like--”

“ _Hwell_ ,” the Duke cuts him off, eyebrows raised. “I would never have expected it of you, Mikey-boy.”

“Don't call him that,” Chuck and Julie snap in chorus as Mike gives him a tired look, and Texas pointedly cracks his knuckles.

The Duke appears to abruptly notice that he's outnumbered, and takes a smart step back. “It appears that you have _no_ need for the wise advice of your elders,” he tells Mike, stroking his beard theatrically. “You figured out how to get all the sugar a man could desire, and they don't even whine about it! However you managed it,” he raises his cane and croons into the mic, “my _respect!_ ”

“Great,” Mike says, voice flat.

“Well, carry on, my clever sexual protégé,” the Duke says, and turns on his heel, tucking his cane under one elbow. “Enjoy the fair with all your sugarbabes!” he calls back over his shoulder, and then vanishes into the crowd.

“Protégé?” Chuck says, making a face. “Hah! He wishes.”

“Hey,” Texas says, glaring after the Duke. “Texas ain't a sugarbabe!” He reaches over and claps Chuck on the back. “Skinny here is the sugarbabe.”

“I'm what?!” Chuck says, and Julie breaks down giggling.

“Oh my god, you guys,” Mike says. He still can't decide if he wants to laugh for ten minutes straight or punch the Duke in the face or just pretend the last half-hour didn't happen. “I guess I just ought to be glad Dutch wasn't here for this.”

“Dutch!” Julie exclaims, turning to grin at Chuck. “We've got to go find Dutch, let him know he's in a harem now!”

“Heck yeah,” Chuck says, snickering, and the two of them go dashing off, ignoring Mike's protests.

Hands over his face, he groans. “I guess this is gonna be a thing now.”

“Aww, it's okay, dude,” Texas says, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You can be in Texas’s harem instead if you want.”

Mike has to laugh at that, and drops his hands to grin at Texas. “Yeah? I dunno, is Junior in it?”

“What? No,” Texas says, glancing around, thick shoulders twitching up like the Mama’s Boys might suddenly appear. “What, ew, gross, no, who told you that? No way, that jerk’s way too lame to make time with Texas, I never touched his dumb butt. Plus he's a real bad kisser, he doesn't deserve a space in Texas’s harem, so there!”

“I believe you, Tex,” Mike says gently, and Texas relaxes. Mike ducks under Texas’s hat brim to kiss him, and says when he pulls back, “So, a fighting ring?”

“Yeah!” Texas perks up and starts off towards it and Mike follows on his heels, hands in his pockets.

“So,” he says in a lower voice as they get into crowd, biting his lip and smiling, “if your harem boy comes to watch you fight, does that mean he gets more kisses later?”

“Yeah, totally!” Texas says, giving him a fierce grin. “When Texas wins, you gotta give him _all_ the sugar!”

“I think I can do that,” Mike says, grinning back. He's pretty smug, honestly. Whoever’s harem this actually is, it's completely awesome.

**Author's Note:**

> (It's Julie's harem. On reflection, Mike will realize this, and the other boys will immediately agree. Julie is rather pleased, and not about to argue.)


End file.
